


Survival Instinct

by storytellerof221b



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Bottom Greg Lestrade, Cuffs, Force Feeding, Gags, M/M, Rape Aftermath, Top Mycroft Holmes, rope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-20
Updated: 2020-01-20
Packaged: 2021-02-27 09:07:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 9
Words: 16,528
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22334686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/storytellerof221b/pseuds/storytellerof221b
Summary: John was badly hurt in many ways during the war he fought. Back home he found a new job as a contractor working for the government. Finding people and taking them into custody. Sometimes he also does protection. One day he got assigned to a new job. It sounded a bit odd but was well damn paid.
Relationships: Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade, Sherlock Holmes/John Watson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 44





	1. Chapter One

Even before John Watson became an army-doctor and went to Afghanistan, he had always only wanted to help people. Soon after finishing university he joined the troops to help his injured comrades on the battlefield. He quickly climbed ranks and became a Captain. But the longer he stayed, the more disillusioned he became. People kept dying in his arms, both friends and comrades. He started to ask himself if he did the right thing.  
The day he was abducted by Afghan terrorists, he knew he had to change and fight back. But there were too many. They threatened him, they tortured him and finally they raped him. They never intended to ask for ransom. He was entertainment, nothing more. Or so they told him and laughed.

After many weeks he was able to catch the gun of a young man who was rather inexperienced. John just couldn’t consider sparing the fellow. It was him or death. John chose his life. He shot the kid. Afterwards he didn’t even feel bad and John decided to worry later about his state of mind.  
He managed to collect clothes and food, as well as some more weapons. On his way out he shot several people including the women who tried to stop him. He couldn’t care less.  
He took the best horse and shooed the rest of them away, so he couldn’t be followed. Then he tried to find the way back. It took him four days to find British troops. Luckily one guy remembered him and made the others stay down. It would have been likely, that they might have killed him due to his looks. He was dirty, his hair had grown out of the military cut and he was hurt badly which showed in his face. He looked like a terrorist himself.

He was taken into a tent and given water and food. Then he fell asleep. He only woke again when being examined. He must have fallen into unconsciousness because now he was in a field hospital. He blinked and moved. The woman smiled at him.  
“Captain Watson, there you are. Tell me how you feel.” John tried and found he felt rather well. At least until he tried to get up. His leg hurt like fuck and so did his shoulder. He roughly groaned and she nodded.  
“Yes, I thought so. Listen to me. We stitched you up. You were badly injured. Your shoulder won’t ever heal completely but your leg should in a while. We also needed to stitch up your behind but there are no lasting damages. Just be careful for a while, will you?" She smiled professionally and continued her little speech.  
"But, you see, you are in no way able to serve anymore. You are to be shipped home the day after tomorrow. We arranged therapy for you in London.” John could just stare at her. He listened to her very clinical voice and tried to accept his fate. When she was done talking and expectantly looked at him, he just nodded. He cleared his throat.  
“Well, it seems everything has been arranged already. Thanks a lot.” He didn’t speak a single word after that.


	2. Chapter Two

John had contacted some of his old friends from the army and now worked as a contractor. His shoulder still ached as predicted. His leg was much better since he was working again. It was dirty work. It was completely against his moral code or any values, but he desperately needed the money. And right now, he didn’t care about being a doctor anymore. He had thought about some locum work at first, but at the end decided against it. Now he earned good money and had quite a nice life.

His dirty work mostly consisted of killings; only bad people, of course. Or at least what the government and secret service considered bad. John didn’t mind. His shooting skills were still first class and he had been provided with the best rifle he ever could have wished for.  
Sometimes they sent him to find someone and bring him back into custody. It was also worth the money. John never listened to them when they tried to reason with him. Instead he drugged them into compliance when it became too much.  
He shook his head and tried to stop thinking. His army life was over and he had to cope. And cope he did. He sighed and decided to go for a run. The weather was nice and on his way back, he could go to Tesco and buy something special for dinner. Perhaps some wine, too. And then he would take a bath. He indulged in foam baths since his return. Resting and relaxing in the warm water helped him stop thinking about his time in captivity.  
He put on his running shoes and ran several times around the little lake in Regent Park. After his fourth round his mobile rang. He stopped and stretched answering the call.  
He got a new job. Nothing was told on the phone now, but he was asked to come in the next day for a special assignment. John wondered. This sounded like something new. He became curious.

***

The next day, when he met his liaison, indeed brought a surprise. The officer made him sit down and offered coffee. John knew that usually meant complicated shit to be given to. But he accepted the coffee and expectantly looked at him.  
“Well, as you probably assume already, this is something special. It has nothing to do with your sniper skills or finding people. This is more about protecting people.” John sipped his coffee.  
“Are we talking about protection detail?” John asked.  
“Exactly.” John sipped some more coffee.  
“Why me?” His boss smiled.  
“You are fresh, so to say. He doesn’t know you yet. I trust you to deal with him because you are a very good commanding officer. You are also a doctor which could come handy in this case.” John raised his brows.  
“Why is that?” His boss cleared his throat.  
“The man you are supposed to protect is somewhat difficult. He is the younger brother of our boss. He has a history of drug abuse, but he is clean now. He is single and sometimes solves crimes. Check out his homepage. He lives in Baker Street and does weird experiments in his flat. That’s where the doctor might be needed sometimes.” John stared at his boss and then poured more coffee.  
“You are asking me to babysit a man?” He nodded.  
“Yes, I do.”  
“What do I have to do?” His boss smiled.  
“Our boss expects you to stay with him 24/7. Meaning, you will be living in his flat. He has a spare room upstairs. You are supposed to make him eat and sleep regularly and follow him to crime scenes and everywhere else.”  
“Is he being threatened?”  
“Yes, very much so. He has put many people behind bars. He has enemies everywhere. There were a few attempts of kidnapping before, but he managed to get away.”  
“How much?” His boss smiled and handed him a piece of paper with a written number on it. John’s eyes widened and he looked up again.  
“Plus expenses.” John nodded.  
“OK, for how long?” Now his boss sighed.  
“As long as it takes, meaning as long as the boss wants it.”  
“Details?” John was handed a data-stick.  
“Starting from tomorrow. Don’t expect hospitality. He is a very strange man. But I think you are the right one to handle him.” John smiled.  
“Does he know that someone is coming for him?” His boss shook his head.  
“No. His brother recommends just going, entering, and invading.” John heartily laughed.  
“Yes, well, and then I will get stabbed in my chest in the middle of the night?” They both laughed.  
“No, he is not like that even though he threatens to kill his brother very often. Just go tomorrow and report back by the end of the week. This is a safe URL you can use for your reports.”  
“If you don’t hear from me, please send someone to have a look.” His boss grinned when John left.  
Back home John packed a bag. He checked through his flat and wondered what place he would find. It was a very special assignment for sure. He had checked the information he was provided with and was excited about living with that guy. The pictures were rather stealthily done and some were printouts from the CCTV. He looked interesting. He was dressed in a very posh way and carried an arrogant attitude John would like to beat out of him.  
He sighed and made dinner which he ate in front of the telly. Afterwards he read a bit and went to bed early.


	3. Chapter Three

The next day around noon John arrived at Baker Street and knocked on the door of 221B. He was surprised when an elderly lady opened the door. She happily smiled at him.  
“You must be Captain Dr Watson then? Come in, dear. His brother informed me about you coming. I am Mrs Hudson, his landlady.” John entered the place.  
“John Watson, hallo.” They shook hands and she pointed upwards.  
“He was up all night. He didn’t sleep at all. He played his violin and crashed something. Again. I really hope you can change something.” John wondered about his assignment again.  
“I will try my very best. Don’t worry anymore, Mrs Hudson. I will take care of everything.” She petted his arm.  
“You look like it, dear. Go on then. Don’t be too harsh with him, please.” John smiled.  
“I won’t, Mrs Hudson. Trust me to handle him with care.” He picked up his bag and climbed up the stairs. Upstairs the door was open and he politely knocked. There was no answer and he stepped inside.  
He stepped right into chaos. This place was a bloody mess. He dropped his bag and closed the door.  
“Hallo? Mr Holmes?” He called politely into the empty room. Suddenly a door was opened and a man poked out.  
“Who are you? If my brother sends you, just fuck off and be gone.” He closed the door with a bang. John grinned and sat on an armchair with a Union Jack pillow. He waited and listened to the shower. The man took forever. Obviously, he expected him to be gone. Well, he would be surprised.  
Finally, the door was opened again. He was only clad in a dressing-gown which flapped around him. Underneath he was naked. His hair was still wet. He saw John and stopped, but didn’t bother to close his dressing-gown.  
“You are still here. What do you want?” John cleared his throat and stood. He tried to ignore the naked skin. That man was such a beauty.  
“My name is John Watson. You were right assuming your brother sent me. But actually, I won’t leave or fuck off, as you so eloquently put it.”  
“Suit yourself then.” They stared into each other’s eyes.  
“Why don’t you get dressed and we talk about it?” He shrugged.  
“We don’t need to talk about anything. I am going to ignore you. I don’t like the spies my brother sends after me. But you are at least interesting being an ex-army doctor and now doing contracting.” He passed by John and started to make tea. John’s eyes followed him. How the hell did he know that?  
“Listen, I was hired to look after you. I never fancied being a body-guard or even a kindergarten-teacher. But I was told to make you eat and sleep. Let’s start with the food.”  
“I have eaten the day before yesterday. I am fine.” He poured the hot water into the mug and added milk and sugar, too. He didn’t offer any to John though. He walked over to the sofa and sat down grabbing his laptop.  
John sighed and followed him. He sat on the coffee table in front of him.  
“We can do it the hard way or the very hard way. What would you like?”  
“Are you trying to threaten me?” The man smiled. John sighed.  
“I am not trying.” John smiled now, too. And now he saw a change on the man’s face. It was a mix out of anger and fear. But John had specific orders and he also had the order to do what was needed, to use anything, to do anything. Carte blanche. And right now, this man seemed to be in desperate need of some education. John would gladly provide it.  
“I would like to see you try.” John shook his head.  
“No, you really wouldn’t.” They stared at each other again. The man tensed as if expecting some move and John didn’t disappoint him. Suddenly he reached out and grabbed the lanky man’s arm. The laptop fell off his thighs and onto the sofa. He pulled him up and got his dressing-gown off his body. Now he was naked. Naked was always good because it made your opponent feel humiliated and insecure. But this guy only seemed to be furious.  
“What the hell!” The man shouted abuse at John who had turned his arm on his back.  
“Shut up! We don’t want to ruin anything, do we? Force-feeding is such a messy business, you see?”  
“What?” John moved him forward and pressed him chest-down on the table. He took a pair of handcuffs from his belt and tied his wrists. Next, he pushed him on the chair in front of the table. At once he tried to get up again.  
“How dare you! This is outrageous!” John pushed him back.  
“Shut the fuck up!” He yelled at him and he did close his mouth. He hadn’t expected this. But after a second he tried to kick and bite. John overpowered him quickly. He knew everything about pressure-points on a human body and had rendered him motionless on the hardwood. Meanwhile he got some padded cuffs out of his bag as well as a mouth-spreader with straps. He was watched from down below.  
John picked him up easily and placed him back on the chair. He took the handcuffs off and instead used the set of padded ones to tether him to the chair. He also used some wider straps and secured both his chest and thighs. While doing so he started to speak again.  
“The intel I got on you was right. You are a childish brat. I am well paid to deal with you. I will make sure you eat and sleep. Trust me. I will stay.”  
“You can’t do this to me.” The man whined and sounded weak. John knew he hurt but went on.  
“Oh yes, I can. Don’t you see? So, will you eat or do I have to use this?” He held up the stainless-steel device from before which was more likely used at a dentist. His eyes widened. But then he pulled the cuffs and pressed his lips together. John sighed again.  
“I was afraid so. I am afraid you chose the very hard way to be taught a lesson.” John pressed his fingers into his jaw and he had to open his mouth. The spreader was shoved inside and spread. He was absolutely helpless making gurgling noises.

Afterwards John checked the fridge but found only human body parts. He raised an eyebrow but didn’t comment since he couldn’t reply anyway. After closing the fridge, he knew why there was a shopping trip to Tesco in his orders. He retrieved a can of chicken broth from his bag and heated it up in the microwave after he had cleaned out the human eyeballs and disinfected the thing very thorough. The man gurgled hectically as if afraid that John would destroy them.  
“Listen, if you spit it back at me or throw up afterwards, I will feed it back to you as long as it takes. Are we clear?” The man made a confirming noise.  
“Very well. It’s about ready.” And right he was because the microwave dinged. He got the bowl with the broth and found a spoon. He stood next to the man who just closed his eyes and completely stilled.  
“I am going to start now. Please swallow.” John had tried before if it was too hot but it wasn’t. He dipped the spoon and carefully placed it in his mouth. He swallowed. They repeated this until the bowl was only half full. Then he lightly shook his head and made noises.  
“Is it too much?” A confirming sound.  
“Are you in pain? Any stomach cramps?” A denying sound erupted.  
“Then we will proceed after a short break. You need to eat.” John had already noted his straining erection but hadn’t commented on it. He tried to overlook it as good as a man could. Was he turned on by being manhandled?  
John was fairly sure that he was in need of a cold shower soon, too. But right now he was able to suppress it.  
“Let’s proceed.” He fed the rest of the broth to the man and placed the bowl in the sink. He took away the spreader and his jaw cracked when he closed his mouth. John filled a glass with water and also brewed fresh tea. Only then he took the cuffs off. The man stayed seated. He didn’t speak a single word. John shoved the water and tea over the table and turned away when he saw his wet eyes and a single tear running down his face. He didn’t turn when he heard him move. He picked up his bag and walked upstairs to his room. It was a rather nice room but it needed fresh air and a bit of cleaning. He opened the window and pulled the duvet down. He shook the pillow and stored his stuff away.  
From downstairs he heard the loud bang of a door. He grinned. Of course, the man was upset, but he wouldn’t probably want to repeat this. He would try to talk to him later.  
For now, he got his laptop and typed his first report on the safe site. He perked up his ears when he heard moving and shuffling and also some mumbling and louder swearing from downstairs. He decided to join him again.  
Slowly he walked down the stairs and approached him. He carefully cleared his throat and the man turned around. He was dressed in pyjamas and a tee. He looked a bit haunted. He turned away again. John leaned against the table.  
“Listen, Mr Holmes. I am only doing my job here. Can’t we try again?” He wasn’t given an answer. John watched what he was doing. He checked the eyeballs and then threw them away.  
“Can’t you just admit that it was good to have eaten?” No reply.  
“Only that you know, we will be having dinner tonight and it depends completely on you how cosy it will be.” The man still didn’t react.  
“As you wish.” John turned around again and collected his cuffs from where he had dropped them after the feeding.  
“You destroyed my experiment.” John stopped and turned around again.  
“What experiment?” He questioningly looked up at him.  
“The eyeballs in the microwave. By moving them you destroyed the test series.”  
“Oh. I am truly sorry. I didn’t mean to destroy your work. You see, I am a doctor myself, so if I can do anything to help?” John offered and really meant it. He surprised him by suggesting it.  
“You were an army-doctor. You know about bullet wounds and bombed bodies.” The man stated bluntly and not very friendly.  
“I also know my lab work, Mr Holmes.” The man sighed and now looked directly at him.  
“Listen, I can see I won’t get rid of you too soon. So please call me Sherlock. If you keep calling me Mr Holmes, I always assume my devilish older brother is around.”  
“Very well, Sherlock.” Sherlock seriously looked at him and asked.  
“You really want to help?” John nodded.  
“Yes, I do. I am serious. Show me what to do.” John stepped up but Sherlock moved a bit to the side as if being afraid, so John kept his distance. Sherlock instead shoved his notebook over, so John could read about the experiment.  
“I see.” John mumbled and started to collect the lab stuff. But first of all, he donned gloves. Sherlock watched him intently but after a few minutes he looked rather pleased and let John do his work. He had relaxed by now and soon started to talk to John.  
“So, you are supposed to make me eat and sleep. You made me eat by force-feeding me. How will you achieve to make me sleep? By hitting me square on the head?” John had to grin.  
“No. I do really hope, you just go and rest. From reading a bedtime story to counting sheep with you, I’ll do anything necessary. I won’t ever bodily harm you, Sherlock.”  
“Hm. What do you call the force-feeding, if not harmful?”  
“Have I hurt you?” Sherlock nodded.  
“You used pressure points on my body to paralyse me. The wicked thing you put in my mouth hurt my jaw. Plus, you were scaring me. I was scared of you. I thought you would …” Sherlock looked at him and he looked stressed again.  
“Listen, I am sorry to have hurt you, but I was told to act like I wanted. I wasn’t given any no-goes or such. In fact, I was given the impression that you deserved everything I could dish out.” Sherlock snorted.  
“I would think so regarding my brother hired you.” John very seriously looked at him.  
“I want to make this work. And I really don’t want to hurt you. If you cooperate for the time being and behave, I could give you a reward?” Sherlock looked a bit taken aback.  
“A reward? I am not a child anymore!” John grinned.  
“Then stop behaving like one.” Sherlock pouted.  
“When you cuffed me to the chair all naked, I was aroused. I am sure you have noticed but you didn’t take any advantage. Why?” John was shocked into stillness.  
“Was that the reason you cried? Because you thought I would improperly touch you? Jesus …” John rubbed his palms over his face and sighed. His shoulders slumped and his face was pale. Sherlock watched his reaction with concern but replied:  
“Of course I thought so. What would you think if someone tied you to a chair all naked and threatened you?”  
“Probably the same. And I of all people should know better.” Sherlock didn’t ask what he meant, but he saved this comment to his mind-palace.  
“OK, I will behave and eat and sleep regularly. I want you to stay. I like you. Now we can watch boring crap telly.” John just had to smile.  
“We can do that.” They moved over to the sofa.  
“You also said you wanted to have dinner with me.”  
“Absolutely. Why?”  
“I have take-away menus somewhere. We could order something and I try to behave. But don’t expect me to eat too much, OK?” John looked at him.  
“I am happy, if you eat something at all without me needing to shove it into you.”  
Time passed while they worked quietly on some experiments and watched crap telly later. John really liked this. When it was time, Sherlock showed him the menus and they decided on Chinese. Sherlock even ordered while John set up the table.  
The food was delivered and Sherlock eyed it. John filled bowls and plates and they sat down. Sherlock picked his food but ate. John didn’t comment on his picking out the lamb. They finished their meal and John got up to rinse their dishes.  
“Would you like a drink?” Sherlock asked John and John considered the question. He took it as the peace offer it was and accepted. Sherlock filled two tumblers and they sat on the sofa.  
“Thanks a lot, Sherlock.” Sherlock nodded and looked him over.  
“I really think I can stand having you around. It also comes handy you being a doctor. You have to run by my side anyway, so you will be able to assist me on crime scenes.” Now he almost looked smug. John smiled but asked anyway.  
“Assist you. On crime scenes. Whatever.” John shook his head and yawned. It was late and he had some exhausting hours behind him.  
“Don’t torment yourself, John. I am retreating and try to sleep, OK?” John very much wanted to trust him and he did.  
“OK, I am done. Please don’t disappoint me, Sherlock.” He stood and Sherlock’s eyes followed him. John used the bathroom and regretted not being able to take a bath. He dressed for the night and went upstairs. He very quickly fell asleep.


	4. Chapter Four

Sherlock got ready for bed, too. He really went under the blanket and made himself comfortable. Then he started to think. He was well fed for once and tired. He blinked several times and finally fell asleep thinking of John.  
He woke again several hours later and sat up in bed. There were strange noises coming from above. Screaming and shouting. John. What was wrong? Sherlock got up and quickly hurried into his living-room.  
“John?” He called out but got no reply. But there were still the worrisome noises coming from upstairs. He had first thought of intruders. He had messed with too many criminals. He hurried upstairs and dashed into John’s room. He was moving over the bed and hitting the mattress. The noises he made were different by now.  
Sherlock slowly moved closer. John was wet with sweat and looked horribly pale. He carefully sat on the edge.  
“John? Wake up! You are having a nightmare.” But John didn’t wake. He reached out for the short blond and carefully touched his shoulder. He elicited a feral scream and jerked back. But still John didn’t wake.  
Now Sherlock tried to calm him down by simply talking. With his low baritone he talked about utter nonsense but it calmed John down. Finally, he even started to sing a slow song and John stopped moving.  
Sherlock sang for about five minutes and then stopped. Suddenly John opened his eyes.  
“What …” His voice slurred and his eyes were clouded but he tried to get up on his elbows. Sherlock slowly stood and tried not to make any hectic moves.  
“I am sorry, Dr Watson. I came upstairs because you were having a rather awful nightmare. I tried to wake you up, but you horribly screamed when I touched you. I am sorry if I did it wrong.”  
“But I woke. And I feel not as bad as I normally do when waking up. So, what did you do?” John slowly sat up and leaned against his headrest. He rubbed over his eyes and angrily wiped away the tears which had spilled freely.  
“I sang a song.” John smiled.  
“I wondered. I can remember it.” Sherlock moved further away.  
“Again, I am sorry.” He turned and wanted to leave.  
“No, don’t be. Please.” Sherlock turned around again and looked at John.  
“Thank you. I mean it.” A small smile was for mere seconds on Sherlock’s face. He nodded and then left his room.  
John looked at the closed door and sighed. He had perhaps underestimated that guy. He had been nice to him even though John had to force the food into him. Perhaps he had just accepted his authority? John remembered Sherlock being hard when being cuffed to the chair. He also remembered his own member being very much interested.  
John was thirsty and slowly got up. He slumped downstairs and found Sherlock in the kitchen making tea. Their eyes met again. Sherlock had two mugs on the counter. He wouldn’t look at John.  
“You are making me tea? Or are you having a guest over?” John smiled when Sherlock’s head shot up.  
“I thought it might help you sleep. Us. I can’t sleep.”  
“I woke you. It’s OK, if you don’t.” Sherlock poured the water and then got sugar and milk. John noted the rosy shade on Sherlock’s cheeks and only then realised that he was only clad in boxer-shorts and nothing else.  
John cleared his throat and shifted on his feet until the tea was ready. He quickly poured milk and thanked Sherlock again. He disappeared upstairs even more quickly.  
Sherlock looked after his figure. He very well noted his finely sculptured arse and thighs. As well as his broad shoulders and tanned skin. Unconsciously he licked his lips but then sighed.  
Why would a man like John ever look at him? He quietly snorted and took his mug into his room. Passing by his large mirror he glanced aside.  
“Too thin, too tall, weirdly slanted eyes, unruly hair. Weird.” He climbed into bed and thought about other names he was called. Freak. Psycho. Brat. He closed his eyes and sipped his tea.  
His thoughts returned to John and what he had done. He wasn’t angry and he hadn’t been scared. He knew his brother wouldn’t send anyone who would really harm him. All the spitting and bad talk was just a game in front of others.  
He only was glad that John hadn’t referred to his hard-on. He had nicely ignored it while he had been sitting naked and erect on his kitchen chair. He was grateful.  
He somehow liked the small blond. He knew what he was doing. Sherlock accepted his authority. He wanted him to stay. He would take him to crime scenes and into the lab. Now that he knew that he was a doctor and was able to perform experiments, he even looked forward to work with him.  
Sherlock finished his tea and felt a little exhausted. He nestled back into the heap of blankets and pillows and closed his eyes. And he slept.


	5. Chapter Five

The next morning John woke rather well rested, except that he needed to use the loo rather urgently due to the tea he had had right in the middle of the night. He quietly hurried downstairs. Sherlock was nowhere to be seen and when he came out of the bath, he checked the clock in the kitchen. It was rather late for him, already after 8 am. He decided not to wake him and dressed into his running gear. But he left a note on the counter telling him where he was.

Sherlock slowly woke and then suddenly remembered. John. He wasn’t alone. He was excited. He had some sort of a flatmate, even though he had been forced on him. But right now, he didn’t mind.  
He got up and used the bathroom. Then he dashed outside but no one was there. But he found the note John had scribbled and left for him. He was running. Sherlock snorted.  
“He would want me to eat breakfast, too. I could at least brew coffee.” He also found some eggs of which he knew they were fresh, since he had needed a part of the box for an experiment and had only bought them three days ago. The bread was green and he threw it away. The tomatoes were mushy and he threw them away, too.  
Coffee and plain eggs. John wouldn’t be pleased. Hold on, why would he want to please John? Oh, screw you, Sherlock. Because he is the only person who didn’t run away at once. The only person who stayed. OK, he was getting paid by his stupid brother but anyway. He had been polite while cuffing him to the chair and force-feeding him. He didn’t seem to be resentful or cruel or mean. He had bothered to explain everything to him.  
And Sherlock liked to look at him. He was a good-looking man. He was both a doctor and a soldier. Perhaps he would tell Sherlock a bit of his time in Afghanistan, if he asked nicely? He could bribe him with tea and chocolate.  
But now he still stared at the eggs. Then it knocked on his door and he went to open it.  
“Mrs Hudson, did something happen? Are you alright?” Only then he saw the tray with breakfast. She stepped inside.  
“I wondered if you two wanted breakfast?” Sherlock smiled and took the tray.  
“Thank you! You are an angel, Mrs Hudson.”  
John meanwhile had returned and had entered the flat again. He greeted the landlady and watched Sherlock interact with her thinking about his behaviour earlier towards him. He cleared his throat and stepped closer.  
“Good morning, Mrs Hudson, Sherlock.” She giggled at him and left waving. Sherlock had blushed.  
“Good morning, Dr Watson. I made coffee. My landlady provided a proper breakfast.” John passed by him.  
“Please, Sherlock, call me John. I will be right with you. You could set up the table in the meantime?” He sent him a smile which nailed Sherlock to the spot but John didn’t recognise it at all.  
Sherlock waited until he heard the shower and only then he palmed himself through his pyjamas. He imagined John all naked under the spray of hot water and bit his lips. With one hand he grabbed the table and the free hand pressed and rubbed his cock. He rather quickly had to grab a tea-towel and rip down his pants. He managed to come into the tea-towel. He wiped his cock clean and threw the fabric into his room and closed the door.  
When John came out of the bathroom, nicely dressed and groomed, Sherlock stood with the pot of coffee in his hand looking absolutely innocent.  
John was a bit suspicious but couldn’t sense any immediate danger or whatever. It only felt a bit like something was gnawing on Sherlock’s conscience. But the kitchen looked clean and it didn’t smell. The table was set and Sherlock had even found a table-cloth. John was rather pleased and it showed. He sat down and looked up at him.  
“You know, this is really nice.” Sherlock poured coffee and looked at him.  
“What is?” John gestured between them.  
“Us. You and me. Having breakfast. I like it. It’s nice not to be alone.” Sherlock just stared at him. Then he snorted quietly and sat down opposite of him.  
“Why would you be alone?” John looked surprised but Sherlock wouldn’t look at him.  
“Who would like to stay with a crippled ex-soldier?” Now he made him look up.  
“That’s a stupid thing to say, John. You are a good-looking man with well-defined muscles. Your limp is solely psychosomatic and it will completely ease away soon. Your skin is tanned and your hair shines in the sun. You …” Only then Sherlock realised what he was doing and his mouth snapped shut. John just gaped at him and blushed. Then he licked his lips.  
“Women must be lining up for you. I mean, look at you. Tall and handsome. Beautifully dressed and wonderful hair. Skin like porcelain. You are everything a woman wants, Sherlock. So where is your company?” Now they stared into each other’s eyes.  
“Nobody likes me. Everyone thinks I am a freak. They call me names.”  
“Well, they won’t do with me around.” John smiled tightly making Sherlock sit straight up.  
“What would you do?” He demanded to know in a low voice.  
“I would kick the person’s behind.” Sherlock widely smiled.  
“Really?” John nodded.  
“Absolutely.”  
“Why?” John thought about it for a moment.  
“Because you are not. Because you don’t deserve being called names.”  
“Thank you, John. I appreciate it. I know you are well paid, but I do appreciate it.” Here John shook his head.  
“No, no, no. I am not kicking arse because I am paid for doing so. I am getting paid for protecting you, yes. But this is just wrong.” They looked at each other for a moment and then Sherlock’s mobile dinged. He looked at the message and then broadly smiled.  
“Come along, John. We’ve got a case.” John reached out for his wrist and held it.  
“First finish your breakfast, please.” Sherlock stood there trembling for a few seconds but then sat down and finished his toast and eggs. John had realised that touching sometimes seemed to be a bit not good.  
“And now you should get dressed before leaving, right?” Sherlock looked a bit taken aback but then he grinned. John grinned, too, and they got ready.  
John met Sherlock in the living-room and felt poorly dressed in his jeans and jumper. Sherlock looked like a model for GQ and he quickly averted his eyes. But Sherlock had seen and congratulated himself for choosing the right style.  
“Where are we going?” John asked following Sherlock outside. He raised a hand and yelled for a cab. Right then one appeared out of nowhere or so it seemed.  
“Embankment. Let’s hurry before the tide sets in.” Sherlock jumped out of the cab the moment they arrived. John had to hurry to follow close. Sherlock ducked under the tape but John was stopped.  
“Who are you?” John just looked at her and her hand on his chest. Slowly she let go.  
“He is with me. Protection detail.” She snorted after having heard Sherlock’s words. John gave her a push with his good shoulder and made her stumble a step backwards. She already had opened her mouth when John turned around and just held up his finger. She just closed it again. John followed Sherlock.  
He wondered why she had been so mean? But then he saw him in action. He was speaking to the others with an arrogance making John shudder. The poor forensic fled the scene and the Inspector in charge just shook his head pinching the bridge of his nose.  
Sherlock insulted every single person present. After having listened for several minutes, John pinched the bridge of his nose, too. He felt a headache coming up. But he didn’t interfere. He had read his file and interfering with the work wasn’t on the agenda. He just waited until he was done and then followed him outside. He pitied the poor Inspector as well as all the others.  
Sherlock in the meantime called the solution to everything over his shoulder and had a cab ready. He just pushed John between his shoulder-blades and John was really too surprised to do anything. Instead he followed the move and sat in the back looking at an extremely pleased Sherlock. And he didn’t know what to say.

***

Sherlock wanted to impress John and he tried very hard to do so. He solved the case in a record time. He didn’t even register his insulting because it was just normal behaviour for him. Some sort of armour. Back in the cab he proudly looked at John waiting for some praise, but John was silent.  
Something was wrong. Sherlock felt cold. What had he done wrong? What if he made John want to leave? What if John doesn’t approve of his work? What if he didn’t like him anymore? What if …  
He didn’t realise that he was hyperventilating until John slapped him out of his state calling his name. Loudly.  
“Sherlock! Stop it! Breathe, will you?” He smacked his cheek once more and Sherlock focused on John. He reached out for him and grabbed his arms almost painful.  
“Don’t go away …” John just pulled him out of the cab and paid the driver. Then he moved him upstairs and poured him a drink after having helped him out of his coat.  
“Drink.” Sherlock drank but his hands were still shaking. John sat on the coffee table and looked at him. He was crying, for God’s sake.  
John carefully placed his palms on his knees. He jerked just a little but then relaxed. Out of hopeful eyes he looked at him and still quietly sobbed.  
“I am not leaving.” Sherlock nodded.  
“I am staying.” Sherlock kept nodding.  
“I need you to explain what happened. Could you do that for me?” Sherlock started to scratch his arms until John pried his fingers away.  
“Don’t.” He felt the man trembling and was glad he was a doctor with his fair share of psychology. He calmly touched him until he had come down.  
“You are not leaving. You are really staying. I will try to explain everything.” He sobbed once more and then blew his nose. He slowly reached out for John and John let him take his hands.  
“I need the work to be not bored. If I am bored, bad things will happen. I will take drugs again to numb my brain. It always rotates. I always see. Everything. No one else sees. I don’t understand. They are mean to me, calling me names. I fight back. Verbally. I am better. I see more. It’s so obvious. They are so stupid.” He looked devastated.  
“Do you think me stupid, too?” Sherlock pressed his hands and shook his head.  
“No, of course not.”  
“Why not?”  
“Because obviously you are not stupid.” John didn’t insist.  
“I will talk to the Inspector. He likes you. I could see it.” Sherlock hunched his shoulders now.  
“I know. I didn’t mean to insult him. He helped me. He saved me. A few years back he found me in a drug-den. I was almost dead and drugged into oblivion. Someone was about to rape me and I wouldn’t even have noticed. But then he came and saved my arse in the truest meaning. I owe him. Since then I am helping him. My brother made me detox and I was allowed to be on crime scenes.”  
“We will work this out together, Sherlock. You will work on your behaviour towards the yarders. I will talk to the DI and he will talk to his team or he will let me talk to them. I am sure he knows your brother?” That question made Sherlock grin.  
“Oh yes, he does.”  
“So, will you promise to try?” Sherlock looked at John.  
“Yes, John.”  
“Remember, you aren’t doing this for me but all for yourself.”  
“Yes, John.” John smiled.  
“Stop yessing me, Sherlock.” He raised an eyebrow.  
“Grammar, John.” John grinned.  
“Shut up, you giant genius.” Sherlock blushed. It really was adorable. John stood and rubbed over his non-existent belly.  
“I am hungry.”  
“I have menus …” John shook his head.  
“No, I would like to cook myself. I will go to Tesco. Would you like to join me?”  
“I will wash up and come along. Please wait.” John got a bag and wrote a shopping-list while Sherlock cooled his blotchy face. After he was done, they left.

***

Mycroft stared at the CCTV showing him his younger brother walking over the parking lot at his local Tesco. He couldn’t believe his eyes. He was with the contractor he had hired. It was his second bloody day and he made him go shopping. He had been the right choice; Mycroft had known it. The small man was amazing and brilliant.  
He had seen the force-feeding. He had also seen his brother cry. But obviously something had happened because Captain Dr Watson was still there. His brother hadn’t shown up and demanded him being taken away. Instead he followed him through Tesco. Bloody hell, now he was even pushing a cart.  
He looked a bit closer. Sherlock looked at this Dr John Watson like a puppy wanting to please its Master. Yes, maybe that’s exactly what it was. His younger sibling had finally found his Master.

Mycroft smiled. This had worked out nicely. Now, thinking about Master again. He rubbed his hands and thought of Greg. Perhaps he could talk him into coming over tonight. Perhaps he should just ask him nicely? He needed him. So, he picked up his mobile and sent a text.

_“Coming over tonight and play?”  
MH_

The answer didn’t take long.

_“I’d love to!”  
GL_

Mycroft grinned and sat up straight.

_“Can’t wait.”  
MH_

_“Leaving early.”  
GL_

_“Getting ready.”  
MH_

_“Getting cleaned."  
GL_

Mycroft shut down his computer and donned his jacket. He took his umbrella and bag and left his office. Outside Anthea looked up at him.  
“What’s up?” Mycroft smiled at her.  
“You are in charge. If someone threatens to kill the Queen, you know where to reach me. Otherwise just take over, will you? I am leaving early.” He grinned and she smiled back at him.  
“Say Hi to the DI from me. See you.” Mycroft just turned around swirling his umbrella once. He snatched the key from his driver and sent him home, too. He rode the car like a maniac through London and reached his town-house rather quickly. He left the car right in front of his door and hurried inside. He made a fire and changed into a pair of dark denims and a black button-down. He wore no socks or shoes. He ruffled his hair and finally poured a drink.  
Right then Greg arrived. Mycroft heard the door-bell and then the key opening the door. Gregory always rang the bell before entering. And now he came around the corner and into the living-room. Mycroft smiled down over his long nose and waved him closer. Greg greedily eyed his drink but looking at Mycroft and the way he was dressed, he knew the game was on. And he didn’t oppose. He was totally in the mood to play.  
He just dropped on his knees. His palms rested on his thighs and he looked on the floor. Mycroft watched him for a few seconds.  
“Eyes on me, please.” Greg looked up and warm brown met grey-blue. Greg swallowed but held his position. He so wanted to touch Mycroft and get touched back. But Mycroft was in charge, only him.  
Mycroft slowly sauntered close until his crotch was about half a centimetre away from Greg’s face. He had started to shiver. But he knew better than to act. Mycroft didn’t like him topping from the bottom. He opened his trousers and pulled out his cock. Greg just waited for his orders and they came.  
“Open your hole for me and make it good.” He spread his legs and shoved his prick into Greg’s hot mouth.  
Greg knew how Mycroft wanted him while performing, so he lifted up his arms and his hands folded on his nape. He kept licking and sucking and bopped his head while his eyes constantly rested on Mycroft’s face. He felt his member grow in his mouth. His tongue got pressed down and his throat was slowly filled up with pre-cum.  
Soon Mycroft started to push and fucked his face. And when he came, he was buried down Greg’s throat and Greg swallowed around him coaxing everything out. He tore at Greg’s hair when he came and said one swayed on the spot for a bit.  
Mycroft stared at Greg and then snatched his wrists from his nape pulling him up. He snogged his face off and pushed him in front of the sofa carding through his hair.  
Greg hadn’t come and knew better than to touch his prick. He kept leaking into his pants though and his straining erection clearly showed. Mycroft poked down on it with his naked foot.  
“Are we a bit naughty, Gregory?” He pulled him back by his hair and looked into his eyes.  
“Yes, Sir. I am sorry, Sir.” Mycroft smiled and sipped his freshly poured drink. Then he kissed Greg again and spilled the exquisite liquid into Greg’s mouth. Greg moaned and swallowed the malt. Mycroft licked over his lips and leaned back again.  
“Get upstairs, undress and kneel facing the wall. I will collect the things we need.” Greg knew better than to get up. Instead he fell on his hands and knees and crawled upstairs. Even inside the bedroom he stayed put since he knew about the cameras in here. He had only made the mistake of cheating once and had spent almost a full day in a rather tiny cage in the basement. It hadn’t been fun at all. He hadn’t safe-worded though. Of course he could have, but there were rules established and he knew he had been cheating. So, he had just accepted the punishment.  
He undressed staying down and neatly folded his clothes setting them on a chair by the wall. Only when he was completely naked, he knelt upright in front of the wall and waited. His hands were back on his nape. He closed his eyes and concentrated on the game.

He loved to play with Mycroft. After both men had talked about what they liked, they were both surprised how well it worked between them. Mycroft was a natural Master and Greg liked to submit, liked to bottom. Mycroft was fantastic in bed and he cherished Greg’s love and devotion.  
And even though Greg was exhausted and tired, he wanted to come and play. He hoped for some pain and then a good fuck. He knew Mycroft always let him come at some point. It might take quite a time but he knew he would.  
He listened into the house and finally heard him approach. The door was opened and he came closer.  
“So good for me, so beautiful.” Mycroft murmured right behind him. Greg could feel the warmth of his body standing right there. He heard him shaking out a rope and then he grabbed his wrist.  
“Get up, Gregory.” Greg stood and Mycroft tied his arms so his fingers touched his elbows. He moved him over to the bed and placed him on his back. He tied his calves to his thighs and pulled them apart. He wound some rope around his knees and tied them to the bed.  
“Lift your head for me, please.” He did at once and a bit was pressed behind his teeth and buckled behind his head. A blindfold followed right away making him quietly moan. Mycroft slapped his arse.  
“No noises, Gregory. Behave.” More rope came around his arms and they were tied to the bed, too. He could barely move by now. The strain in his limbs was almost perfect. The bit pressed into his mouth and his jaw painfully hurt. He gave a full body shiver in delight. He felt so very good. He was aroused and horny as hell.  
“Don’t drift away, Gregory.” Greg lifted his head to show he was with him. Mycroft scratched his fingers over his scalp.  
“I bought something new for you. I know you like a little bit of pain. Here it comes.” This was wicked because Greg couldn’t see what Mycroft was up to.  
He got very excited when he felt Mycroft’s fingers on his balls. He pulled his skin up and then pinched it. No, it was more than a pinch, it was like a needle threading through his balls and the pain wouldn’t go away. Instead it lasted and it was repeated on several parts on his balls.  
Greg started to pant and his ever so hard cock was painfully hard and leaking on his belly. The pinching kept on happening and he was sweating by now, too.  
“Would you like to see?” Greg let out a noise making Mycroft snigger. Then he heard the clicking of a mobile picture. That man was so fucking unbelievable. He was bloody blindfolded but now it was moved off. Gregory blinked twice and then stared at the picture in front of him. He needed all his strength to prevent an orgasm right now.  
Mycroft had threaded a colourful pattern all over his balls. The pinching he had felt had in fact been needles.  
“You know, the yarn will stay. It will dissolve by water. Do you like it?” Greg groaned behind his gag.  
Soon enough he felt Mycroft’s fingers between his cheeks and press down. He opened him up rather rudely and quickly. And instead of his own cock, he stuffed a plug into him which spread him open and made him groan.  
“And this is new, too. I love online shopping, you know? Enjoy!” The plug sent hammering electric pulses through his behind and soon made him scream. His balls still hurt, too, and it was almost a bit too much. But only almost.  
This torture lasted quite a bit and Greg couldn’t move a bit. He couldn’t even rut. When he had reached the point of leaving his head and going into subspace, Mycroft started to cane his soles. Greg lost it for a bit but woke rather quickly because Mycroft hit on the plug.  
“Don’t drift away, Gregory.” He grabbed his cock and pulled and touched him until Greg cried and sobbed and snot and saliva were all over his lips, chin, and neck. He tried to beg even though it was senseless. Mycroft would do whatever he wanted. And now he wanted to torture Greg and watch him suffer. If it would become too much, he had a safe-word and Mycroft knew Greg would use it. He rarely did because he enjoyed too much.  
Suddenly the electric beating stopped and Mycroft pulled out the huge plug. Greg felt his hole wide open and moaned behind the bit. Then he watched Mycroft kneel between his folded legs and line up. He somehow was naked now and his cock was fully erect and leaking. He stroked it and kept eye-contact. Greg shivered.  
He was exhausted and tired but he wanted to please Mycroft. He also wanted to come. His cock hurt and his intestines were wadded. When Mycroft pushed into him his eyes fluttered. Both the pain and the pleasure was intense and Greg weakly cried out. He suffered from tunnel vision and finally blacked out without having come.  
Mycroft looked at Greg. He looked a bit sick and too pale. He was worried. He slowed down and pulled off the rope. His legs came down and Mycroft carefully left his body. He took the gag away but Greg didn’t react anymore. His eyes were closed and he was gone.  
Mycroft stared down and took off everything until Greg was just naked. He tenderly moved his fingertips over Greg’s face.  
“Gregory? Love? Can you hear me?” But there was no reaction whatsoever. Greg was just pale and clammy. Now Mycroft was really worried.  
“I should have seen. He already looked tired when he arrived. I should have just offered a drink and dinner. Instead I forced a scene on him. I should have talked him out of it. I didn’t see.” He got up and brought warm towels. He wiped them tenderly over Greg’s body which still shivered. He also soaked his balls as long as it took to get all the needle-work off. He pulled up the duvet and held him close to his body.  
He didn’t sleep at all. He stayed awake until Greg started to move a little. Then he tensed in Mycroft’s arms and cleared his throat.  
“Oh God, I am sorry. I must have blacked out. Please forgive me.” He tried to turn around in his arms but Mycroft held him tight to his chest and started to whisper.  
“No, Gregory. It is me who must be asking for forgiveness. I dearly apologise for the hurt and pain I caused you. I didn’t see, didn’t pay attention. I am actually begging for your forgiveness.” He kissed his shoulder. Greg didn’t answer at once and Mycroft listened to his breathing pattern. It changed from stuttering to hitching to calming. Only then he lessened his grip and finally Greg looked at him.  
“Myc, I could have said something but I didn’t. I don’t expect you scrying, even though I know you can.”  
“I feel bad.” Mycroft admitted.  
“I feel bad, too. Both of us should have done and said something. Perhaps we could have something to eat now, please? I am famished.” Mycroft smiled and let go.  
“Of course. I will prepare something. Come on.” They stood and Mycroft handed Greg a fluffy bath-robe and warm socks. He even put them on his feet. Greg blushed.  
Mycroft got dressed into something comfy, too. They walked downstairs and Greg sat at the kitchen counter. He watched Mycroft put together everything for dinner. His stomach started to rumble.  
Somehow, he still felt he could have a drink. Right that instance Mycroft turned and poured him a stiff malt.  
“Thank you, Myc.” Mycroft smiled at that. No one except Greg had ever used a nickname for him. Not even Sherlock. Well, he had other names for him.  
Mycroft stared into the pan and stirred. He felt guilty for not having seen Greg’s trouble, how much in pain he had been. Mycroft’s face settled into angriness and hurt. His shoulders became stiff.  
“Don’t worry about me, Myc. It’s OK. I have a safe-word, I could have used it but I didn’t. I wanted to enjoy your administrations, even though I knew I was exhausted and tired.”  
“It’s my job to see. I didn’t care enough. Again, I am sorry.”  
“We both are. Now stop worrying and feed me.” Mycroft turned around half smiling. Greg smiled, too.  
“Pretty please?”  
“No more tonight, OK?” He finished cooking and placed the plate on the counter. Greg dug in and devoured everything.  
“You are a fantastic cook. You have so many skills. I do love you so much.” Out of wide eyes Mycroft looked at him and his heart beat faster. He gently palmed Greg’s face.  
“And I love you.”


	6. Chapter Six

Sherlock felt a bit dizzy pushing the cart through the aisles of Tesco. He never had been to Tesco, least a supermarket, before. He saw many things he was interested in but obediently followed John along who held their list.  
John kept watching Sherlock. He wondered why he behaved so weird. He saw him looking at a few things and decided to buy some of it later for him as a treat and reward. He was rather convinced it would make him happy.  
Back at Baker Street they stored their goods away and John sorted out the things, he would need for cooking dinner that night. There were noodles, cheese, white wine, and mushrooms. He made Sherlock clean and chop the mushrooms to keep him busy.  
Sherlock worked like a machine. It somehow seemed he wanted to appease John.  
“Is this how you want them?” He held up the wooden tray for John to examine the mushrooms. John looked at them and then at Sherlock.  
“Looks good. Thanks a lot. Now set up the table for us, please. If you like, we could have a wine?” Sherlock nodded and turned around. First, he washed his hands and then started to collect the dishes. Then he really took the trouble to set up the table with a nice linen table-cloth and fitting napkins. He looked like performing an important experiment and perhaps he needed to handle these common things like that to achieve his goal.  
After he was done, he even looked a bit proud, but right away turned to John with a questioning look on his face.  
“See? Is it good?” John looked at him and smiled.  
“Very much so. Thank you, Sherlock.” Sherlock beamed at him and hovered about waiting for more to do. Suddenly he moved over to a cupboard and rummaged through it. He came up with a candle which he placed on the table, too.  
Right then John came back from cleaning his hands and his face lightened up.  
“Oh, this is really nice. I like it.” He hurried into the kitchen calling out to Sherlock.  
“Go and sit down. I will bring the food. You light the candle and pour the wine.” Sherlock did exactly that and waited for John to bring the bowls with spaghetti and sauce. It smelled divine and he really wanted to eat.  
Sherlock watched John fight the spaghetti. It was adorable and a smile was on Sherlock’s face. A bit of sauce was on John’s cheek and Sherlock felt the urge to gently wipe it off. He might have looked a bit too long because suddenly John said:  
“What is it?” Sherlock blushed a bit and pointed it out. Now John blushed.  
“I never managed to eat these properly. I only eat them at home, so I won’t disgrace myself too much. I am sorry.” But Sherlock shook his head.  
“Don’t worry. It shows me that you are human.” Now John grinned.  
“You think me not human?”  
“You are so skilled and perfect. Also, you are a doctor. You should be able to handle the spaghetti on your fork and spoon.”  
“I also can’t manage chopsticks. It’s really a shame.”  
“There is always something.” They looked at each other. Sherlock took his glass and said:  
“I would like to thank you again.” John picked up his glass, too.  
“Whatever for?”  
“For staying. I can’t tell you how glad I am.” John looked at him all smiling.  
“You know, I was told you were hard to handle and it seemed right at first. But then I saw more. I can only tell you that I love being here with you. I love my room upstairs; I love our dinner and I can’t wait to follow you to a crime scene again.” Sherlock gnawed on his lip and John felt quite a bit hot.  
“What is it?” Sherlock looked into his glass and not at John.  
“How do you explain this to others?” John tilted his head.  
“Explain what? I don’t understand.”  
“You living here with me. Don’t you have to explain this?” John shook his head.  
“No, not at all. There is no one I need to explain my life to.” He looked and sounded sad. Sherlock was rather astonished. He had assumed that John had a girl-friend and therefore a need to explain his being away and living with another man.  
“I am sorry. I didn’t mean to be too curious.” John shook his head.  
“No need to be sorry. Who would want a scarred ex-soldier anyway?” Now Sherlock looked really taken aback.  
“Are you serious? Do you really not see what other people see?” John leaned back in his chair. This was getting interesting.  
“What do you think what other people see? What do you see?” Sherlock licked his lips.  
“When we were at Tesco earlier today, there were several people, both men and women, checking you out. But you didn’t react, you obviously didn’t see.”  
“No, I really didn’t. But what do they see?” John insisted and Sherlock’s cheeks began to show a rosy shade. John smiled and thought again about how adorable he could be.  
“I can tell you what I see.”  
“Please do so. You are making me curious.”  
“You are well muscled under your ridiculous jumpers. You hold yourself high. Your eyes are as blue as the ocean. You are tanned. You move like an animal. You emanate protection, power, and strength as well as friendship, love, and adoration. Your whole being is just bright.” John could just stare at Sherlock. He was moved to the core. No one had ever told him such things.  
“I feel a bit strange right now.” John couldn’t say more. Instead he drank some more wine. Suddenly Sherlock stood and got the bottle with malt out of the drawer.  
“We need a drink, I think. Here.” He poured some into tumblers and handed John his glass. John drank slowly and then looked at Sherlock.  
“And what about you?” Sherlock looked into his tumbler.  
“What about me?” John grinned now and sat up straight.  
“Who did you tell about your new flatmate?”  
“Whom.”  
“What?”  
“Whom did you tell about your new flatmate?” John sighed.  
“Whom did you tell about your new flatmate?” Sherlock smiled.  
“No one. The only person interested in me is my horrible brother who hired you anyway. Lestrade knows because they are shagging. There is no one else. I don’t have any friends. People normally avoid me.” John felt sad for him.  
“People are afraid of special and outstanding people.”  
“You think me special?” John nodded.  
“Very much so. I think you are intelligent beyond measure, a genius. You are well dressed to the extreme. You look fantastic. Your eyes are changing colour depending on your mood. You have many special skills. Your skin is like porcelain. You are beautiful. Why don’t you have a girlfriend?” Sherlock had blushed a darker shade of red by now.  
“Girls are not my area, John.”  
“Oh, so boyfriend?”  
“Neither. Not interested. You invest in people; you care for them and then they are leaving.”  
“I see.” They sipped their drinks in silence for a while until Sherlock spoke again.  
“I assume you want me to go to bed now and rest?” John just smiled.  
“Of course, I want you to sleep regularly, but I think I have to go slowly with you. You have to get used to a healthy rhythm and that will take some time. So just do whatever you do, but don’t do it too loud because I am going to take a bath now, if you don’t mind.” Sherlock shook his head.  
“No, of course not. I will take my special out for you. Hold on a second.” Up he was and disappeared into the bathroom. He took several minutes in there and John wondered what he was doing. At last the toilet flushed and he returned. A smug smile was on his face.  
“Now you may go. Have fun.” He went into his bedroom and the door was closed. John walked into the bath and found several candles burning and the light dimmed. He smiled. A very expensive bathing-foam sat on the edge of the tub and John took it. Chocolate. He opened the lid and smelled it. It was fantastic. Sherlock also had placed the wine and his glass in here. When had he done that?  
Slowly he undressed and filled the tub. He poured some of the foam and soon it bubbled up. He climbed inside and closed his eyes in delight. He completely relaxed.  
He almost inhaled water when Sherlock dashed inside.  
“I forgot something important!” He explained and came even closer. John was happy he had used the foam.  
“Sherlock!” Said one was clueless. Why was John so upset?  
“What? You need this to relax.” And he dropped a black rubber-duck into the water. He grinned and turned around. And gone he was.  
John was addled and took the duck into his hand. Then he blushed. The duck was vibrating. He checked the door but it was closed. Sherlock was gone. John settled and pressed the duck on his cock. It really felt nice. It was a funny toy and John grinned while coming.  
He left the bathroom a very relaxed man. He had cleaned the duck and placed it by the sink for Sherlock to put away again. He had loved the gesture. He looked around but couldn’t see him, but he heard him move about in his room. So, he just went upstairs.


	7. Chapter Seven

The next day everything went way smoother. Sherlock had already prepared breakfast and set up the table when John came downstairs. John’s eyes widened and he smiled. He hurried into the bathroom and was back at the table quickly.  
“That’s great. Thank you for preparing all this for us, Sherlock.” Sherlock smiled all happy.  
“You are welcome.” They had breakfast together and when Sherlock sipped the last of his coffee, his mobile rang. He listened for a minute and then looked at John.  
“Lestrade just told me, there is another murder by the Embankment. He expects me to come over. Are you coming along?” John nodded and stood.  
“Sure thing. Protection detail, remember?” He smiled and ran upstairs to get shoes and his jacket. They reached the river about 20 minutes later and found Lestrade and his team moving all over the place. This time John wasn’t stopped by that woman and she didn’t comment either.  
John quietly followed Sherlock everywhere and listened to his deductions. He thought him amazing and brilliant.  
Suddenly Sherlock bent down and sniffed at some mud he held under his nose.  
“He is still close.” That’s what John heard before Sherlock took off. He ran after him at once but Sherlock was quick. John lost him when he turned around a corner. John followed and saw Sherlock standing at gunpoint. At once he reached for his own gun and pulled it out of his holster. The other man hadn’t seen him yet. He took aim and shot. His bullet hit and he dropped the gun. But instead he grabbed Sherlock. Both of them stumbled around a bit and John ran over, but he didn’t make it. Both Sherlock and the suspected killer fell into the Thames. They had been moving too close to the water.  
John hesitated not for a second. He shrugged off his jacket and toed off his shoes on his way jumping into the river. He dove quickly and tried to see something in the muddy water. He desperately grabbed around and finally got hold of Sherlock’s coat. He pulled and moved up. He didn’t care about the other man. Only Sherlock was important.  
He reached the surface and shook his head. Sherlock didn’t move and he held him in a dead man’s grip. He pushed them through the water and suddenly Sherlock's arms started to flail around, his head wildly turned and he also kicked his feet through the water. It took all of John's strength to hold him.  
Suddenly there was a police-cruiser coming up to them.  
“Sherlock, stop that. It's me! Stop that!” But now he even started to scream. Lestrade leaned over and grabbed Sherlock, too.  
“Let go, Dr Watson.” Their eyes met and John sensed something. He let go and kicked water until Sherlock was safely on board. Only then he pulled himself up and inside, too. By now he felt very cold and was given a blanket. He looked at Sherlock who was on the ground. He looked tense and stressed. He had focused on Lestrade who knelt by his side.  
“I am right here, Sherlock. You don't have to worry, OK? No one will harm you. Dr Watson won't harm you. I already called Mycroft and he will pick you up right away. Did you hear me?” Sherlock slowly nodded and closed his eyes.  
“Where is John?” He roughly whispered. Greg smiled.  
“He is right here, Sherlock. He pulled you out of the water, remember? He jumped right after you when you fell into the Thames with that damn criminal.”  
“I don't remember, I am sorry. I only felt the water and then there were hands holding me, restraining me.” He shuddered and only then looked up at John. He smiled a bit weakly. And John smiled back. Lestrade was surprised.  
Back on the pier there was a black expensive car waiting with a slender, good looking man waiting beside it. This was Sherlock's brother? Inspector Lestrade helped Sherlock into the car and then talked to him. Surprisingly the tall man hugged him and then Greg left. John looked after him when he was spoken to.  
“Captain Watson? I can't tell you how glad I am.” John tilted his head.  
“Well, I am protection-detail, am I?” But he smiled and something similar showed on Mycroft Holmes face, too.  
“You are much more than that already and we both know it. Get in the car and I will see to your well-being.”  
“Thank you, Sir.” He sat by Sherlock's side and Mycroft sat on the other side. John tried not to sit too close but it seemed to be OK.  
“Where are we going?” John dared asking.  
“My place. You will be staying there with my brother as long as it takes.” John sighed but only inwards. He had no clothes and no nothing.  
“Don't worry, Captain Doctor. Everything will be provided.” Sherlock had spoken quietly with his eyes still closed. Mycroft was texting furiously and looking a bit grim.  
“If you say so, Sherlock?” Said one slowly nodded.  
After several minutes the car stopped in front of a beautiful town-house in posh Kensington. John left the car at once and checked the surroundings but everything was just fine. He helped Sherlock climb outside and felt him shiver. He was cold. John was cold, too. He urgently needed a shower but first came Sherlock.  
Mycroft followed still texting and the door was opened. Inside was a butler who held open the door for them.  
“Fuck, how rich are those guys?” John wondered and followed Sherlock inside.  
“Take a shower, brother-dear. You know where to go.” Sherlock nodded and moved upstairs. John kept following. When he stood in the bath, he turned to John.  
“I would rather take a hot bath. Could you help me, please?” John dropped the blanket.  
“Of course, Sherlock. Come here and sit on the toilet-lid.” Sherlock did just that and watched John prepare his bath. John wished he could climb in there, too, but he would wait. Finally, he helped him out of his sodden clothes and into the tub. Sherlock closed his eyes and sighed.  
“Thank you, Captain Doctor. Really, I mean it.” John smiled.  
“I am glad it ended well. But you need to be more careful, Sherlock. You almost gave me a stroke falling into the water. This man could have killed you.”  
“No, he couldn't.” Sherlock answered and John tilted his head questioningly.  
“Why not? Of course he could have!” John answered.  
“But I have a protection-detail!” He grinned up at John and it made John grin, too. He shook his head.  
“Oh, you impossible man!” He shook his head and Sherlock blushed a bit.  
“John, go and take a bath, too. You must be freezing.” John nodded. He was.  
“I am. But I don't know where.” He helplessly shrugged.  
“Go through the connecting door and use the bath in that room. By now Henry should have brought new clothes for you, too.” John raised a brow.  
“Who is Henry?” John asked.  
“Mycroft's butler and assassin, the one who opened the door when we arrived.”  
“Oh, I see. OK then. See you soon.” John had a last look at Sherlock who just waved him off. He walked over and found said Henry in the bath.  
“Dr Watson, I prepared a bath for you, too. I hope it's fine with you?” John could only nod.  
“Yes, of course it is. Thank you.” He had also seen the bundle of clothes on the armchair. Mycroft was very well organised.  
“Would you need anything else, Dr Watson?” Henry asked.  
“No, thank you. I am fine.” Henry nodded and left. John shed his clothes and lowered his body into the hot water. He groaned quietly. This was heaven.

***

Later John dressed into the provided clothes and found he had never owned such expensive brands. He needed to be careful, so they wouldn’t get damaged and he had to replace them. Even though he had earned enough money, he had nothing to waste. Sure, he could have bought such things for himself, as well, but why?  
He left the room and wondered where everybody was. He slowly walked downstairs where he found Sherlock sitting by the fire. It looked like a bloody library. And the sod was smoking and holding a tumbler.  
But he smiled when he saw John. He stopped smiling though when he saw John’s expression.  
“Not good?” He quietly asked.  
“A bit not good, yes.” John replied. Sherlock killed the cigarette and downed his drink.  
“Sit, John. Henry will get you a drink.” But John shook his head.  
“God, I can very well pour my own drink.” John said turning around.  
“Not here you don’t.” Sherlock said and pointed at Henry who was standing close offering a drink. John took it by default and thanked him. Henry left and John slumped into another armchair by the fire sighing.  
“What’s wrong, Captain Doctor?” Sherlock asked leaning towards him. John shook his head.  
“Nothing. It’s just, all this. I am not used to this life-style.” He carefully sipped his drink and closed his eyes in delight.  
“Honey, I am home!” A voice suddenly called out and Sherlock grinned.  
“It’s Greg. Now you will get to know him better.” Sherlock said and both men looked expectantly at the door.  
“I am afraid, Mr Holmes is not home yet. He called to tell you he needed some more time.” Henry explained and ushered Greg into the library.  
Sherlock stood and pulled him into an embrace.  
“Greg. It’s good to see you. Finally meet John Watson not doing business with me. Actually it is Dr John Watson. Captain Doctor John Watson.” John just shook his head but stood and held out his hand to greet the Detective Inspector.  
“Greg Lestrade, Detective Inspector. Nice to meet you properly and not soaked.” They instantly liked each other and grinned.  
John was surprised when Sherlock poured a drink for Lestrade. He must really like him.  
“So, John. You are still with Himself. How do you manage?” Sherlock sunk deeper into his armchair and looked into his tumbler.  
“Very well, I believe. We are having a good time, right?” John stated and Sherlock’s head shot up. He looked very surprised and it showed.  
“If you say so?” He stuttered and turned to his drink again. John just shook his head and smiled. Greg openly grinned.  
When he reached out for his tumbler on the table, his shirt rode up a bit and John was able to see rope marks and a bit of chafed off skin. He raised a brow and carefully gave the DI a once-over. But he seemed to be fine and not in pain or distressed.  
“Stop worrying, John. It’s completely consensual.” Sherlock’s statement made John swallow and Greg blush.  
“I might have been a bit rougher than usual the other night.” Mycroft had entered the room without anyone noticing.  
“Myc!” Greg beamed at him and kissed him at once. Mycroft kissed him back and it looked just fine. It seemed to be a healthy d/s relationship.  
Sherlock made an impolite noise and John just gave him the look. He wondered if he was jealous.  
“Mycroft tells me you will be staying with us for a bit?” Greg stated and handed Mycroft a drink.  
“So it seems, yes.” John replied.  
“We will be having a good time!” Greg rubbed his hands looking at all of them.  
“Don’t even think of it!” Mycroft muttered and topped his drink.  
“You won’t make me!” Sherlock just said.  
“What?” John added.  
“I wanted to watch the game.” John’s eyes lightened up but then he looked at Sherlock.  
“No, I am sorry, Greg.” He shook his head and Sherlock snorted.  
“God, John. I am inside my brother’s castle. We are absolutely safe. This is probably the safest place in London except for Buckingham Palace. Greg, take him into the room where the media lives. Have fun!” He moved his wrist once and Greg pulled John along who didn’t argue anymore.

***

Sherlock stayed with his older brother who now sat opposite of him by the fire.  
“I am glad I can stay here for a few days after the incident.” Sherlock murmured.  
“As soon as I got the message from Anthea I knew you needed it. You know, I am always by your side, Sherlock. Always. And even though there is Dr Watson or whoever, I will keep watching.” Mycroft looked serious.  
“I know that and I am thankful. It’s still difficult sometimes.” Sherlock said and started to feel cold again.  
“Victor is dead. I took care of that. No one will ever do such things to you or will die trying.” Sherlock sadly smiled but didn’t reply.  
Both men quietly sipped their drinks for a while until Mycroft started to speak again.  
“I saw the first day when Dr Watson arrived and what he did. Why didn’t you come to me because of what he did?”  
“Would it have changed anything?” Sherlock asked and Mycroft shook his head.  
“No, of course not. I hired the man to take care of you. He has carte blanche.”  
”That’s what I figured and I decided to see what else he would dish up. But he simply explained everything to me. He was kind and calm and very good to me. I didn’t want him to leave again. I felt, I finally could have a companion, a flatmate.”  
“A friend?” Mycroft carefully suggested.  
“Yes, and a friend.” Sherlock smiled and Mycroft felt happy.

***

Upstairs Greg and John sat on the sofa in front of a large screen watching the game. Greg had offered beer and John allowed himself to drink because this was a safe place and he knew it.  
During the break Greg turned to look at him.  
“Did he tell you?” John looked at Greg.  
“Tell me what?” He asked.  
“About his past. Or were you briefed?” He looked concerned.  
“I was briefed before I joined him in his flat. But he told me some things, as well. I can only guess about other things that might have happened to him in his past due to his behaviour.”  
“I am sure you have noticed he didn’t like to be touched or held.” John slowly nodded and a picture of Sherlock tied to his kitchen-chair popped up in his mind. The tears he had cried and his erection he had ignored.  
“Yes, I sure did.”  
“And you are not asking.” Greg said.  
“No, I am not. Is it your task to tell me?” John asked.  
“I feel I could. I don’t know if I should. But just let me ask one question.” He looked into John’s eyes.  
“Yes?” John wondered what was coming up.  
“Are you attracted to him? Do you have feelings for him?” Again, John blushed a bit and he cleared his throat.  
“He is a very attractive man and I can’t deny the fact that I am attracted. Under normal circumstances I would have tried something. But not like this. Not with all the information I have. Plus, I am hired to protect him. This is an assigned job and therefore it would be unprofessional if I'd make a move. So no. No way.” John shook his head.  
“Don’t get this the wrong way, John, but I need to verify something. Are you a dominant?” Now Greg seemed to appear smaller on the sofa.   
John was surprised.  
“Uh, yes, I am.” He offered no more but Greg just slowly nodded.  
“I thought so. Just tread carefully, please?”  
“I promise.” Greg just handed over another beer and they continued to watch the game.

***

Mycroft had finally vanished into his office and left Sherlock behind. He was getting bored and poured another drink. He didn’t want to join Greg and John to watch a stupid game. He also didn’t want to read and now he even didn’t want to smoke. He sighed and moved deeper into the sofa. He pulled down a blanket and turned on his side to face the back of it. He smelled the expensive leather and felt the safeness of his brother’s home.  
Greg and John came downstairs in a very good mood even though they had discussed serious topics. But they could discuss them properly and John felt much better to know he had been right.  
“Good night, John. I’ll pick up my dom from his office now. Sherlock is probably still in the library.” They parted and John went to look for Sherlock. He found him on the sofa with his back to the room. He moved up slowly.  
“Sherlock, are you awake?” He asked quietly. A low grunt was the answer and he slowly turned on his back looking up at John.  
“Now I am, John.” But he smiled. He lifted his long legs and John took it as the invitation it was and sat. At once the legs were lowered back down and were placed on John’s thighs.  
“Do you think it’s ok if I pour another drink?” John asked. Sherlock quietly laughed.  
“Only if you pour me one, too.” John leaned forward towards the table where everything still sat. He placed the tumbler on Sherlock’s chest who quickly took it. Then he leaned into the sofa and sighed.  
“I had a rather good time with DI Lestrade. Greg. He is a good man. And he is your brother’s boy-friend, right?” John looked at Sherlock.  
“Greg was my only friend until you showed, John. And yes, he is my brother’s boy-friend. But don’t let him hear this word. He prefers fiancée.” He rolled his eyes and John grinned. Only after a few seconds it had sunk in.  
“I am your friend?” John asked staring at Sherlock. He was surprised and it showed. Sherlock swallowed.  
“Yes?” Now it sounded more like a question and he tried to get up. John took the tumbler from him and tried not to get kicked by his legs.  
“What are you doing?” John finally asked.  
“I think you are not too happy about the fact that I am considering you my friend, John.” His voice was cold and he wouldn’t look at John.  
“What? No!” Sherlock looked at him again. John stared up into his eyes and Sherlock stared back.  
“So, it’s fine for you?” Sherlock asked.  
“More than just fine. I like it. I am honoured. We didn’t have the best start but we managed. I really hope this assignment will last a bit.” Sherlock twitched as if being hit. He slammed the tumbler on the table.  
“Assignment? I am an assignment? Just great! Well, good to know that.” He stormed out of the room and John heard him stomp upstairs. Then a door was closed with rude force.   
John rubbed his tired eyes. What he fuck had gone wrong here?


	8. Chapter Eight

John knew by now not to follow Sherlock. He would calm down all by himself. But still he was worried. He followed slower and closed his door. He undressed and washed up. He found fresh pyjamas and everything else provided. For a bit he stood in front of the connecting door and listened.   
It sounded as if Sherlock was sobbing. Should he knock?   
He decided against it. Sherlock had behaved like a child and threw a tantrum. Let him think about it and find out he had been wrong. John turned away and climbed into his bed. He wasn’t able to fall asleep for a long time.

***

Upstairs both Mycroft and Greg heard the door slam. Greg broke the kiss and wanted to move but Mycroft snatched his wrist.  
“No, probably the typical misunderstanding. Neither Sherlock or John will leave this place. Don’t worry about it, please?” But Greg did worry. He bit his lips but stayed. Instead he buried his face against his dom’s neck.  
“I just want him to be happy…” Greg whispered. Mycroft rubbed his palms over his back.  
“So do I, my love. But as long as John is working for me, nothing is going to happen. John Watson is a pro; he never would act inappropriate.” Greg snorted against his skin.  
“Then fire him to make both men happy.” He murmured.  
“I surely won’t fire the good doctor. He is the best protection and companion there ever was.”  
“He can protect Sherlock while working as a doctor and be his companion, too.” He kept murmuring.  
“What are you talking about, Gregory?” Mycroft pressed against his shoulders and gently pushed him off.  
“They are attracted to each other. Can’t you see?” Greg smiled.  
“I thought Dr Watson had my brother under control; that he somehow had managed to achieve the impossible.” Mycroft shrugged.  
“It might have started like that but by now? Please! The attraction is visible. They have feelings for each other and Sherlock doesn’t know how to handle his. John is too good to be true and won’t ever make the first step.”  
“Are you suggesting I am to make the first step for them?” Mycroft asked.  
“God, yes, love!” Now Mycroft turned away from Greg and started to walk through the bedroom. Greg watched him.  
“But how?” He finally asked.  
“What?” Greg looked shocked.  
“I need you to tell me what to do, Greg. I have no idea.” He shook his head and fumbled for his cigarettes.  
“Not in here, please?” Greg chided quietly and Mycroft sighed.  
“Join me downstairs then. We need to talk about this.” Mycroft held out his hand and Greg joined him.

***

Sherlock had shed his clothes and now they were all over the place. He just brushed his teeth and climbed into bed pulling up the duvet all the way. He moved on his side facing the wall but also the door to John’s room. He changed sides but now he strained his ears. He could hear John approaching the door but he didn’t knock.  
Sherlock pulled up his legs and almost completely disappeared. His brain was working overtime.  
“Assignment. I should have known better. He is just being kind because he doesn’t want to lose his job. I really thought he felt something for me. Obviously he doesn’t."  
He never should have let hopes rule his life. Now they were present and would disturb his work. He needed to talk to Mycroft. He needed John to be taken away. He would accept anybody else, someone he doesn’t give a damn for. It would be easier like that.  
The first thing tomorrow he would talk to his brother and have him arrange everything.


	9. Chapter Nine

Come next morning John was the first to enter the kitchen. It was still early and since he couldn’t leave the house for a run, he had decided to prepare breakfast.  
Soon enough Greg showed looking a bit tired and exhausted. John looked him over.  
“You ok, mate?” He asked focusing on his red rimmed eyes.  
“Yes, I am. Just a long night without a lot of sleep. Both Myc and I are worried about Sherlock and you.” John quietly snorted and turned back to his task with the frying pan.  
“Well, obviously there is no Sherlock and I. Ask him yourself. Perhaps you will understand what’s going on inside that big brain of his.”  
“I will do so today. He was totally upset yesterday evening.” John didn’t comment on that but placed a plate in front of Greg whose face lightened up.  
“Thank you!” He devoured the eggs and potatoes and so did John. John drank water and Greg had juice with it.  
“Good morning, Dr Watson. My office, if you please?” Mycroft suddenly stood in front of them and John hadn’t even noticed. He was way out of it and he knew it. He swore to himself quiet rudely. He followed Mycroft and didn’t look at Greg anymore.  
The moment John and Mycroft had disappeared, Sherlock entered the kitchen. He must have waited for the exact moment to be safe only with Greg.  
“Morning, Greg. Any more?” He just asked. Greg put the rest on a plate for him happy about the fact he demanded food. So, John had some influence on him.  
“What happened yesterday?” Greg just asked because Sherlock would never tell by himself.  
“I found out the truth.” Sherlock poked into the scrambled eggs but finally started to eat.  
“What truth?” Greg knew how to make him talk. And while eating Sherlock told him what had been said yesterday evening.

***

John was offered the sofa and didn’t have to sit in front of Mycroft’s desk. It was rather nice of him, John thought. But still he wondered what he wanted. Actually, he believed he would be thrown out without being paid.  
“Relax, Dr Watson. I just want to talk to you.” Mycroft sat by his side and John just waited for him to start.  
“Well, my fiancée and I heard Sherlock yesterday. We are worried and Gregory thinks I need to tell you a bit about my brother to make you understand. He often reacts like that due to misunderstandings. He isn’t good with humans.” There he sadly smiled.   
“I might have used a wrong word but I didn’t think it would lead to this. I didn’t know what happened.” John admitted.  
“What did you say to him?” Mycroft asked and John told him.  
“Ah, I see. Well. We need to get that out of the way. You know, he likes you. I can see that and so can Greg. But what about you? I don’t know you too well but you impressed Gregory. So tell me, Dr Watson, what do you feel regarding my brother?” John swallowed and had to clear his throat. He needed a bit but finally started to speak.  
“I am attracted to Sherlock. A lot. The first day when I made him eat, it was extreme, even for me. His reactions to my actions were rather clear and also weren’t. He was aroused, the situation, him being tied up on the chair and forced to eat, gave him an erection. But at the same time, he was scared I would do something to him, probably rape him or something. I have no idea. But I should have seen. Me of anyone should have seen…” John sounded sad and ground his teeth together.  
“I have read your file, Dr Watson, and I agree. But it’s done and we need to take care of Sherlock and you now.” This statement made John look up and right into his eyes.  
“You think, he would come back to me?” John looked hopeful.  
“Yes, I do. What about you?” John quickly nodded.  
“Absolutely. I like him a lot and if there is hope left, I could still be with him…” He slowly shook his head.  
“You are a dom yourself. Do you think you could hold back enough for my brother?”  
“Absolutely. I would never hurt him. I am not a sadist. He has to want it, too.”  
“What if he doesn’t want it?” Mycroft raised a brow.  
“Then I would burn my toys and just be with him.” When saying these words, John realised that he loved Sherlock.  
Mycroft was very pleased with himself and he wondered about Greg and Sherlock.   
“Let’s go back and meet up. I will explain some of this to my brother but you have to do the rest.” They stood and John tried to be calm but his heart was beating loudly and he felt beads of sweat trickle down his spine.

***

“But you still have feelings for him, right?” Greg asked sipping his coffee. He and Sherlock were still in the kitchen and Greg leaned against the counter while Sherlock sat cross-legged on top of it. And now Sherlock pulled a face.  
“Yes, I have. But I was hurt.” He said.  
“No, he didn’t hurt you. He just used a word you didn’t like in that context. But admittedly, you are his assignment, aren’t you?” Greg looked up at him.  
“Yes, of course, but…” Sherlock wanted to say more but Greg interrupted him.  
“No, you just took off without giving him the chance to make it better. You stormed off as you always do and threw a tantrum. What do you think John felt when you just left him?” Greg asked.  
“I don’t care.” Sherlock was stubborn.  
“Yes, you do. I know it and you know it, too. I watched the game with him. He is a good man and probably a good dom, too. He does like you; he has feelings for you, I know it.” Sherlock didn’t look at him.  
“What do you expect me to do?” Only now he looked at Greg who smiled now.  
“Listen to him. Listen to what he has to say.” Slowly Sherlock nodded.  
“I can do that.” Sherlock agreed and as if planned like that, Mycroft and John entered the kitchen.   
Sherlock stared at John looking still a bit angry. John looked stressed and hurt but he returned the stare.  
“Sherlock, Dr Watson, why don’t you go outside? Greg, is there more coffee?” Mycroft threw Sherlock the look when passing by and he quickly jumped off the counter.  
“I’ll lead the way then, shall I?” Sherlock said and walked towards the backdoor with John on his heels. Both Greg and Mycroft looked at them until they were outside.  
“Can we listen in to them?” Greg asked bluntly. Mycroft looked surprised.  
“Yes? But you…” Greg handed him his coffee.  
“Yes, I know, but this is different. Your office?” Greg started to move and quickly Mycroft was leading the way. Greg smirked.  
“I saw that, Gregory.” He gave him the look.  
“I don’t care what this may cost me later today. I need to know if it works. Just please?” He looked at Mycroft out of big puppy eyes and Mycroft melted.  
After a minute both men stared at Mycroft’s screen and listened to the audio. Greg felt for his dom’s hand and they stood close.

***

Outside Sherlock walked over the lawn until he reached a bench under a tree.   
“This is beautiful.” John whispered but kept standing. Sherlock lit a cigarette and John kept his comment to himself. If Sherlock wanted a fag, he shall have it. John wouldn’t be provoked by his actions.  
“I was told I should listen to you. Well, I am listening to you.” Sherlock blew smoke into the air.  
“Yes, well. Thank you for coming here with me to hear me out. Yesterday me using the word “assignment”, I didn’t see the bad in it. But you got it all wrong. You are my friend and I have feelings for you. You are a wonderful person, beautiful. You mean a lot to me. You are not just an assignment to me. You were at first but it changed quickly.” John breathed and continued.  
“If you don’t return my feelings, I promise to leave instantly. I didn’t mean to hurt you, I never would.” John helplessly shrugged.  
Sherlock’s cigarette was burnt to the filter and he burnt his finger. Quickly he dropped it and stuck his finger between his lips. He stared at John and his cheekbones were covered in red.  
“John, I do have feelings for you. I have told you before, no, I have begged you before not to leave me. Yesterday I was confused. I don’t do feelings. Certain things happened in my past and that’s why I was so scared when you tied me up naked. If you can have patience with me, I want you to stay with me. Come back to Baker Street with me.” Sherlock stood and looked at John who swallowed hard.  
“Certain things happened to me, too. In Afghanistan. I very much want to stay with you. Take whatever time you need. I am patient, very much so.” John looked up at him and suddenly they stood very close together. They could feel their body-warmth.   
Slowly Sherlock reached out for John’s hand and took it. A smile came up on John’s face and Sherlock lowered his head. Their lips just brushed over each other’s, but it was enough.


End file.
